


Pack Bond

by Wi1dfire



Category: Sense8 (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:59:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4381865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wi1dfire/pseuds/Wi1dfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was up to Laura. All she can give them is a chance. And that chance will cost her everything. Her choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pack Bond

**Author's Note:**

> A Teen Wolf/Sense8 crossover ficlet, set in the universe of Sense8, but so far containing none of those characters. I probably will not continue this, but who knows?

“It’s up to you, Laura.”

Laura shook her head, trying to clear the whisper away. But the voice persisted, growing in strength. “They need you Laura. They need to know what they are, and only you can show them.”

The young woman was filthy, dressed in layers of ragged clothes that obviously hadn’t been cleaned in some time. She was sitting on an equally dirty mattress in a room roofed by tree roots, with packed dirt walls and floor, and the only light provided by the moon between the roots. Her face and expression were worn, but her eyes, reddened, were filling with anger. “You swore I’d never have to do this. ‘No more,’ you said.”

“I didn’t want to, but things changed.” He put a hand on her shoulder, pretending not to notice her flinch. “They’re coming for us now.”

“They found us?”

“I found you,” said another voice, this one almost purring in delight. “Laura. Long time no see.”

“Kate.” Kate was casually dressed in loose, functional clothing. She knelt down next to Laura on her other side.

“You’ve given me a good chase Laura. I’m proud of you, really. But it’s time for you to come home now.”

Laura growled out, “Never.”

“There’s not much time, Laura,” said the first voice.

“But you said-“

“NOW Laura. They’re going to be hunted, waking or sleeping. This is their only chance.”

“Is that Derek you’re talking to?” Kate asked, laughing. “How great! Tell him I can’t wait to see him again. I bet he grew up in all the right places; it’ll be just like old times.”

Laura ignored her, and ignored him. She was already seeking…elsewhere. “I see them,” she whispered.

 

_Austin, TX 12:09 AM_

Lydia Martin glared at the clock on the wall, but it refused to change what it said: just after midnight. Which meant in slightly less than eight hours, she had to be up, dressed, and handing back all of these midterms that the professor had only just gotten around to giving her to grade about three hours earlier. All 300 of them. Sure, most of work was done by the Scantron machine, but just entering all of them into the gradebook would take her until dawn.

“’It’ll be great,’ they said. ‘You love to teach, just like me!’ she said. Great advice, mom, considering you quit teaching after five years on the job.” Lydia grumbled. The scantron machine devoured sheet after sheet, and Lydia looked towards the window so that she could, if only for a moment, be thinking about literally anything else besides her TA position.

But instead of the window, she saw a room that was a hole in the ground, and a dirty, brown haired young woman in her early thirties, looking straight back at her.

 

_London_ _, England 06:09 AM_

Isaac cut the power on his back-hoe. “Lahey!” called the foreman almost instantly. “The fuck you doing pretty boy! Get this piece-of-shite moving!”

“Don’t like the noise she’s making,” Isaac said, stepping down, and climbing underneath with a wrench.

The foreman rolled his eyes. “Don’t like the noise she’s making. Useless fucking poof.”

Isaac ignored him. The foreman, whose name Isaac had not bothered to learn, reminded him too much of his father some days. But, the pay was good, and there weren’t too many other options in this economy. At least he had learned how to operate the heavy machinery years before he should have legally been able to use them. And how to maintain them.

Bare minutes and one noisy bang later, Isaac was climbing back up. This time, the engine was humming along to his satisfaction. He waved triumphantly at the foreman. “Any time now!” the foreman yelled back.

But Isaac didn’t hear him, or see his exaggerated gesture. In his place, a barefoot woman about ten years older than him was staring at him in silence. Her eyes never left his, even as she gave him a slow, acknowledging nod.

 

_Manila, Philippines 01:09 PM_

It was too damned hot, Erica Reyes decided. Far too hot to work sober. She looked over at her mini-fridge with a certain amount of longing in her expression, but her most recent meds did not play well with alcohol, and the six pack of locally brewed beer would have to wait at least another week. She sighed, a little wistful, then turned her attention back to her afternoon’s research.

Suddenly, she felt cool all over. She looked up, and instead of the cramped office where she attempted to juggle her tasks of fact-checking, photo-editing, and style correcting, she was alone in what looked like a cave. And then just as suddenly she wasn’t alone; a long haired figure breathed in front of her. Their eyes locked.

 

_New York, NY 01:09 AM_

Malia Tate did not dance. She could if she wanted to, but…why? It’s not like dancing was something she did for fun. She danced to blend in, or to stand out, but never just for itself. She did move through the dance floor with liquid, almost sensuous, movements, dodging the eager and the oblivious as she tracked her mark across the floor. Someone owed her father a lot of money, and thought she wouldn’t corner them if they stuck to the crowds and public places.

Her mark ducked through a knot of dancers that parted as he approached, and she grinned a toothy smile as her path to him was clear. She could almost feel her hand closing around his shirt, but, between one blink and the next, there was a dirty, ill kept woman standing between them. Malia started, taken aback by the woman’s disheveled appearance among this crowd of club-goers, and that she had suddenly materialized at all. The woman slowly began to smile as Malia watched.

 

_Beacon Hills, CA 10:09 PM_

Scott McCall slammed on the brakes of his hand-me-down Ford Taurus. Stiles Stilinski, his best friend, bulged his eyes as he was thrown up against the seat belt. “What the hell Scott?”

Scott wasn’t listening. He was already getting out of the car to check on the vaguely familiar woman who was sitting in the middle of the road, grinning at him. “I see you,” she whispered. And then vanished.

 

“I see you,” Laura whispered, before turning her attention back to her cave.

“ _Very_  good, Laura. That’s why I liked you the best,” Kate said.

The other voice too was congratulatory. “Good girl,” he said.

“You’ve given me so many new friends over the years, Laura. And I didn’t even have to make you this time,” Kate said, her voice bright. “I simply  _must_  get you home, so I can take care of you properly. And so we can start looking for these new friends of yours.”

“No,” Laura said. “Not this time.”

“Oh, Laura. Must we do this again? You know how it always ends.”

“I won’t do it. I won’t give them to you this time.” Kate had no reply, merely shook her head. Someone else might have looked sad, Kate was smiling too wide for that to be true. And Laura knew her better than almost anyone, knew Kate’s hungers.

“You know what you have to do,” the other voice said, and this one was sad.

Laura turned away from Kate. “You’ll protect them?”

“I will. I’ll find them. Teach them. But you have to do your part too.”

“What is he telling you Laura?” Kate asked. “Is he telling you to run? Because, I hate to say this, but your running days have ended.”

Laura blinked, and both her companions were gone. Instead, she could hear movement on the ground above her. “Come out come out wherever you are!” called an extremely familiar voice.

With energy she had not demonstrated in years, Laura dove forward, digging frantically at the dirt. “Too late, too late.” Kate reminded her, at her side once again. Laura’s questing fingers found what they sought: the smooth steel of a pistol. “Oh come on now. You know you don’t have what it takes to do that.”

“Maybe not,” Laura said. “But I know who does. Help me.”

A new voice, this one tight with worry, pushed in. She’d been hiding from Derek as much as she’d been hiding from Kate, but instead of anticipatory, he was frantic. “Laura? Where are you? What’s going on?” Laura ignored him, except to say, “I’m sorry. There’s no time.” Then, “Good bye.”

She pushed him aside, and Kate too, in favor of the last voice. It was Peter’s hands that curled around the gun, placed the gun in his mouth, and pulled, never once looking up, even as a confounded Kate and her team threw open the door. But it was into Laura’s head that the bullet was fired.


End file.
